


An Extraordinary Ordinary Day in the Life of Aziraphale Fell

by die_traumerei



Series: Bike Girls [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Autistic Aziraphale (Good Omens), Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Heavy Petting, Hospitals, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Injury, Napping, Sharing a Bed, Slice of Life, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27385636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: Set between Comfort and the morning they wake up together in Meet-Cute in a Ditch. Crowley and Aziraphale have a day together -- she gets her arm put in plaster properly, they have lunch, Aziraphale takes a nap. It's utterly ordinary, and utterly wonderful.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Bike Girls [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997386
Comments: 21
Kudos: 77





	An Extraordinary Ordinary Day in the Life of Aziraphale Fell

**Author's Note:**

> New stuff for Bike Girls! Enjoy the world's fastest burn :)

_I'm right out front, cutie. Take your time, I know I'm early._

Aziraphale smiled at the text message. She couldn't  _not_ . Oh, Crowley was so kind. She didn't know people that kind existed in the world. Well, she knew they  _did_ , just not that she'd meet one someday.

_Be right down!_

There, that was basically normal and sensible. And she was pretty well ready to go – everything in her purse, and she'd wrestled her way into a nice enough dress this morning. It was long, and a pretty gold colour. Sleeveless, but she looked good enough in it, and she wanted something that would fit over the heavy splint and bandages around her arm. Getting into the neck brace and sling on her own hadn't been fun, but she'd managed it, going slow.

Her neck hardly ached and her wrist still hurt, but not as badly. A little better each day. Maybe in a week she'd be a proper girlfriend again, cute and sexy and fun.

Okay, so she'd never really been any of that, but Crowley might start to mind? Well enough if she did, maybe. End it before it would hurt too much.

(Maybe, a soft voice in her mind said. Maybe Crowley wouldn't mind. Maybe she'd like bookish, quiet Aziraphale. Maybe she thinks long dresses and soft make-up are pretty. Maybe she really, really likes  _you_ . She knows what stimming is, and practically encourages it! She likes you. Maybe she'll keep liking the real you.)

Aziraphale stepped into simple ballet flats, grabbed her purse, and locked up before going downstairs and out the front door, hugging her arm to her belly to keep it from jostling.

And oh, there was Crowley, leaning against the car, all tall and slender and gorgeous and  _smiling_ , the way her face lit up!

Aziraphale walked faster, walked right into her open arms before she could think, and hugged back tightly.

“Angel!” A kiss on her cheek. “You look beautiful. How are you today?”

“I'm good,” Aziraphale said, eyes closed and smiling so wide it hurt. “Hurts less than yesterday.”

“That's wonderful,” Crowley said softly, and kissed her other cheek. 

“You look beautiful,” Aziraphale whispered, and got an even tighter hug. “Thank you _so much_. For driving me around. I really, really appreciate it.”

“It's really, really no trouble,” Crowley promised her, and leaned back a little, so Aziraphale could see her without turning her head. “You're not a bit of trouble, angel.” A softer kiss now, lingering a little, and calming something inside Aziraphale.

“Still.” She smiled, one arm safely caught between them, her neck held still, and her other arm close around Crowley's waist. “I'm lucky. I'm really not very badly hurt at all.”

“It's true, thank you God,” Crowley said, and touched their noses together. “Come on, lass. We have to get you a cast, then out to lunch to celebrate.”

“Crowley!”

Crowley laughed and helped her into her car, even buckling her seatbelt. “But me no buts. If you're up to it, I mean.”

“I'm sure I will be,” Aziraphale said warmly, settled in nice and safe as Crowley closed her door and walked 'round to the other side, and they set off for the short drive. She smiled, watching the last of the summer settle in, and rubbed her arm. “I wonder when I'll be okay to go out on a bike again?”

“Honestly, probably as soon as your cast is off,” Crowley offered. 

“How long was it with you and your foot?” Aziraphale asked dreamily. That wasn't far away at all. And her bike had survived the accident far better than she had – Crowley was replacing a broken spoke, but that was all.

“Um,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale closed her eyes and sighed.

“I was out of plaster?” Crowley offered.

Aziraphale kept her eyes closed. “Crowley. Darling, dearest, sweetest Crowley.”

“Oh come on! Cycling in the boot was fine! It didn't even hurt!”

Maybe they'd make it as a couple, just because Crowley needed someone to keep her disaster-ness in check. Well, they could keep each  _other_ in check.

“Just out of _wild_ curiosity, what was the actual medical advice you received?” she asked, because apparently she loved to be horrified by the things her new girlfriend could get herself into.

“Um,” Crowley said. “You have to promise not to get mad.” A pause. “Or do as I did.”

“I _really_ do not plan on hopping on my bike before I'm fully healed,” Aziraphale said dryly. “Spill, dollface.”

“Are we in a film?” Crowley muttered, pausing to go through a tricky roundabout. “Uh. I was supposed to wait a little after it was all healed. And start slow and stuff. I just started slow a little earlier!”

Aziraphale sighed. “Oh, Crowley. You could have hurt yourself really badly.”

“I mean, I guess. I was fine though!” Crowley insisted. “I'm pretty tough.”

“Yes, darling,” Aziraphale said, thinking about how she'd cuddled Crowley when she'd cried at the end of _The Dark Crystal_ , and been personally tucked into bed with kisses and pets and a glass of water at her bedside. Maybe Crowley meant exclusively physically tough, although Aziraphale was not willing to bet on that either, for the record.

Things were slow at the hospital, but that was all right. It gave Aziraphale a minute to get used to new surroundings, and of course she had Crowley right there, arm around her shoulders, being silly and making her giggle, and she made Crowley laugh in return, showing her cute stuff on her phone.

They wound up in a little curtained-off room, just the two of them, for what seemed like ages. Aziraphale on a bed, her arm up on a little table, and Crowley by her side, sweet and beautiful and just...amazing.

A contrast. To what she'd had with Gabrielle. But that was a thing to think about later.

“So what did you do last night?” she asked, when they'd exhausted meme-sharing. “Please tell me you enjoyed yourself a little bit?”

Crowley frowned, and took her hand. “I did, but hey. That implies I didn't enjoy the evenings at yours. I very much did, Aziraphale. You're the easiest patient in the world, and we had a lot of fun, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Aziraphale said, relaxing and smiling. “I'm sorry if I implied otherwise.”

Crowley just kissed the back of her hand. “I did have a good night, too. I got stuck into  _A Heart's Quilt_ and wound up writing a good few thousand words.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Aziraphale exclaimed. Crowley didn't so much have _a_ job as a suite of them – editing technical manuals, a little PR consulting, running some instagram accounts. But by far Aziraphale's favourite and, Crowley admitted, her biggest earner, was that she wrote Amish romance novels. They sold like hotcakes, especially in the States, and were great fun to write, so Crowley considered them win-win.

Aziraphale had somehow found out her pen-name and had ordered the first three in an ongoing series without telling Crowley. She was already planning which ros é to drink as she idled in the bath and read them.

(Sure she might have a bag over one arm, but it wasn't like she had much sexiness to detract  _from_ . And it was going to be a pleasure for her and her alone. She even had some waterproof toys if need be. Were Amish romance novels spicy? Aziraphale would find out!)

Crowley grinned and squeezed her hand. “I'm pretty happy, yeah – this puts me ahead of schedule, actually. I watched some old Doctor Who and went to bed early, and that was my lovely night.” A softer smile. “You have a good night, angel?”

“I did,” Aziraphale said softly. “It was really nice. Thank you, for understanding.” She sighed. “It really hurt, seeing Gabrielle yesterday.”

“Considering the way she treated you, yeah, I can see that,” Crowley snorted.

Aziraphale smiled for a moment. “Yes. I.” She freed her hand and started to rub the fabric of her dress, careful to avoid the seam. Crowley had enough to do, repairing yesterday's skirt. “I don't think we were really good together,” she mumbled, casting her eyes down.

“I'm sorry,” Crowley said, her voice so gentle it was going to make Aziraphale break. “I'm so sorry. You don't deserve any of how she treated you.”

Aziraphale gave her a weak smile. “All that and  _she_ dumped  _me_ . How pathetic is that?”

Crowley touched her cheek, her expression pained. “Oh, my angel. It's not like that at all --”

Of course  _then_ a nurse could tend to them. It was probably for the best, or she'd start crying and saying things she didn't want Crowley to know – not just yet. They hadn't even known each other a  _week_ !

And besides, there were good things happening, the first being when he took off the neck brace, had her move her head, and declared the she didn't need it anymore. She'd wiggled happily without thinking, but neither the nurse nor Crowley seemed to care, Crowley even giving a dorky little 'woohoo!'

“Keep taking paracetamol as you need it,” he advised. “And if you have a heating pad or a heat pack, that will feel lovely on your neck too.”

“I have both,” Crowley told her softly. “You can borrow them, long as you want.”

Aziraphale took great joy from turning her head and smiling at Crowley in thanks.

She was nervous when they undid the bandages and splint around her forearm but of course it looked fine. Maybe a little swollen, but not at all like when she'd first come in; it was just an arm. Nothing scary at all, and she relaxed a little, resting it on the table.

“Right then, most important bit,” the nurse said, winking at her. “What colour?”

“Pink,” she said, no hesitation. If one was going to be high femme, one had best go all the way.

“Pink coming right up,” he promised, and she watched curiously as he cut the stockinette to fit her arm and began to actually build up the cast – first padding, then the fibreglass bandages. He was gentle and quiet, and she liked watching him, liked the pattern the bandages made. The cast was smaller than what she'd had at first; it ran from the palm of her hand to a few inches short of her elbow, and was a good bit thinner too.

“We'll just give that a little bit to harden, and then you're done,” he said. “You'll start feeling better soon – how are your pain levels?”

She shrugged. “If I stay still and have painkillers, maybe a two? I can feel it, but it doesn't hurt  _bad_ . I guess the worst it was today was maybe a six out of ten?”

He nodded. “You'll likely start to feel a lot better soon, but sometimes it takes some time, just depends on the person. Keep up the painkillers, and be as still as you like if that helps. You'll probably find you're sleeping a lot, and a nap never hurt anybody.” He winked, and she smiled at him. He was so kind – ah, there, she could just glimpse his ID badge. Chae.

“Your body's working really hard, Aziraphale,” he continued. “Sleep as much as you want to, and make sure you're getting plenty of good food, lots of water, the usual. Wear the sling for as long as it helps too. You're able to take off work?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I'm off until next Tuesday at least, and starting back with half days for another week. More if I feel poorly, and I can take off as I need it.” And thank God her boss was understanding. She worked in a local antique book shop, mostly doing repairs and conserving old books, but with some shelving and general shop-running duties too. Anathema hadn't  _really_ needed an assistant, but it did make it a lot easier to have two of them handling the place rather than one alone, and Aziraphale was comfortably settled in. And her book conservation skills had brought them in a fair bit of extra money, so she was at least generally useful.

“Wonderful,” he praised. “Take it if you need it. It's not a serious break at all, and it's not like you're endangering a good outcome, but the more rested and comfortable you are, the faster you'll heal. And it's important that you feel good too, yeah? You went through a pretty scary thing.”

Aziraphale reached for Crowley's hand, finding it without even looking, and squeezed. “Yes. But I feel good. I really do. My girlfriend...” She trailed off and just grinned like a ninny.

Chae laughed and looked at Crowley. “Perfect. Treat her like a princess, okay?”

“Can I get a doctor's note for that?” Crowley asked, her grin indescribable. “Just so I can shove it in her face when she gets all protest-y?”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Aziraphale said, as Chae found an _actual notepad_ with hospital letterhead from some cupboard, and wrote out neatly. _Treat Aziraphale like a princess and make sure she gets plenty of rest and cake with her tea. Terrible jokes to make her laugh are encouraged, and hugs daily are required._ He signed it with a flourish, and handed it to Crowley, who definitely looked like all of her Christmases had come at once.

“Thank you,” she said, low and intense. “Thank you for this beautiful gift which I will not abuse in any way.”

“I'm sure,” Chae said dryly. “Pizza lady.”

“Oh, good, I like it when my reputation precedes me,” Crowley said.

“Pizza lazy?” Aziraphale asked. She wondered if 'confused and a little afraid but also very curious' was just the mood she'd always be in around Crowley.

“Oh, uh.” Crowley had the grace to blush. “I, um. Ordered pizza for the nurses for the whole floor. For a week.”

Aziraphale's eyes widened. “Oh, Crowley...you're so  _sweet_ .”

“I just did it cos that one nurse knew when to leave so I could ask you out,” Crowley muttered.

“Oh is that all?” Aziraphale asked sweetly.

“...'n cos you were hurt and scared and everyone took really good care of you and you weren't sad or afraid at all,” Crowley mumbled to her lap. “Don't make a thing out of it, okay?”

“Okay,” Aziraphale said gently, even as she rubbed her thumb over Crowley's knuckles. This kind, soft, generous woman. How had no one snapped her up already? Was everyone in the world suddenly just incredibly dumb, that they didn't see how perfect she was?

Chae cleared his throat. “Ah, anyway. You can call us with any questions of course, but we shouldn't need to see you for another month. I'd like you to come in and get x-rayed then, just so we can be sure everything's healing well, and we can set up your final appointment then. I expect you won't need to wear the cast for more than six weeks or so, though.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “That's good to hear.”

“Four weeks from today?” he asked, pulling up some scheduling software. “Same time even.”

“Of course,” she said, nodding firmly. She'd certainly be well enough to walk from the bus stop by then, or if Crowley was still around, she'd probably offer a ride, knowing her. Silly woman.

“Great, that's set,” he said, and helped her back into the sling and settled her arm, adjusting the straps to hold her a little more comfortably. “See you in a few weeks, Aziraphale.”

They bid him goodbye and Crowley immediately slipped an arm around her shoulders, protective and affectionate all in one as they navigated the long corridors, and finally back out to the car.

Aziraphale smiled down at her arm, touching the hard edge of the cast. “Thank you. It was so nice to have you there.”

“Of course, angel. 'Sides, now I have _doctor's orders_ to spoil you,” she teased, and Aziraphale laughed, nudging into her.

“You don't _have_ to do all that, you know,” she protested. “It was all a joke, I'm sure.”

“Yes and no,” Crowley said. “First of all, maybe I _want_ to be really nice to my cute girlfriend, especially while her arm is hurt? You ever think of _that_ , clever lady?”

Aziraphale laughed, and admitted she hadn't.

“Right, well start thinking of it,” Crowley told her, and kissed her cheek before she opened the car door for Aziraphale. “And he's right. You went through something really frightening, and really painful. You're not hurt badly, but it _does_ matter that you feel safe and cared-for and even happy. That's really important, okay? And I know you don't need me for any of that, but I'd like to help.”

“Oh, Crowley...” Aziraphale waited for her to slide behind the wheel, and twisted around to pull her into a hug. “I don't _need_ you, but I appreciate you so much. I...well, I _like_ you. I like it when you're nice to me.” She laughed. “God, that sounds so stupid.”

“No it doesn't,” Crowley said gently. “It sounds beautiful to me. I like you too. And I like being nice to you. And you're wonderful to me, too.” She hugged Aziraphale, and rubbed her back gently, her hand drifting up to cup the back of her neck. “Does this hurt, sweetheart?”

Aziraphale shook her head – carefully. “No, not at all, why?”

Crowley winked at her. “Feel up to a filthy pub lunch? Then back to mine?”

Aziraphale giggled. “Yes, and yes. I've not even seen your house yet! And you lived in my flat for two days! Oi, fair's fair!”

Crowley laughed out loud. “In that case, want to spend the night?” She smiled softly. “You can stay in my bed, or there's a spare. Whatever you're comfortable with, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale blushed and ducked her head. “Oh! Oh, I...I'd like that very much.” She smiled down at her lap, fingers twisting in her dress again. “I think I would like to sleep in your bed, with you. Um.”

“I'd like that. And honey, you can change your mind,” Crowley said gently. “No offence taken. Honestly, if it seems like I'll thrash around and hurt you, I'm taking myself off to the spare room.”

“I'm sure I'll be fine,” Aziraphale said, more confidently now. She had an out. And gosh, she really did like Crowley. A whole night sharing a bed? She thought that sounded perfect.

Lunch was wonderful – Crowley drove them two villages over to a pub with a garden that overlooked a river, and which had the messiest, best cheeseburgers Aziraphale had ever had. She even got a pint to celebrate, and got very giggly and happy.

“It is lighter,” she admitted, stroking her cast, and curled up her fingers. “Be easier to get shirts and such over it too. I know this dress isn't the most flattering.” It showed off her bosom pretty well, but that was about it.

“If this _isn't_ flattering, the rest of your wardrobe is going to kill me,” Crowley said, nibbling on her fries. “Seriously, Aziraphale, you look beautiful.”

“Oh, but with my arms out...” She paused, and smiled. “You know what? You're right. I look beautiful today. I should keep my hair down more often.”

Huh. People's eyes actually could turn into hearts, because that's what Crowley's eyes were doing just then.

“Yuh-huh,” she managed, and dropped a chip. “Uh. Yes. Good. Um. Oh Jesus.”

Aziraphale's smile grew. Right. Crowley was exactly a big a dingus as she was. Thank goodness. She reached over the table, feeling rather daring, picked up the chip and offered it to Crowley.

Who very carefully ate half of it, letting Aziraphale finish it off.

“Yum,” she said, and smiled broader. “Crowley, thank you. It's wonderful here.”

“Uh huh,” Crowley said, and cleared her throat and dropped another chip.

It occurred to Aziraphale that they were two Disaster Gays right next to a huge body of water, and should probably tone it down to make sure they weren't back at A&E  _again_ .

They survived flirting over lunch, though, and Crowley drove them back to Aziraphale's so she could pack an overnight bag. Moving around was already so much easier without the neck brace, she almost enjoyed existing again. And it was quick enough to throw pyjamas and a change of clothes into her bag, alongside a toothbrush and all the bits and bobs she needed. She paused thoughtfully at her vanity. “Crowley?” she called.

“Hmm? Everything okay?” Crowley asked, wandering to the door of her bedroom. She'd been amusing herself in the living room, now well-settled into Aziraphale's flat.

“Um. If I pack some make-up, will you help me put it on? Just a bit of lipstick and eyeshadow kind of thing.” Aziraphale blushed a little. “I really like wearing make-up, and it feels funny to go without.”

“Angel, of course,” Crowley said gently, coming over and pulling her into a cuddle. “I would love that.”

Aziraphale snuggled close. “Good. Oh, sweetheart. I know I don't owe you, exactly, but also, I owe you?”

Crowley kissed her cheek. “You don't.”

“No, but.” Aziraphale paused, and gathered her words, lined them up and tried to be a person. “Teach me what I can do, that makes you happy?” She nodded a little, on firmer ground now. “What are your favourite biscuits?”

Crowley smiled. “I actually don't like sweeties all that much. But I like wine, and good coffee, and very dark chocolate. Does that get you started?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said. “Thank you.” She was feeling on firmer ground – seeing Gabrielle had rather thrown her for a loop. But with Crowley and lunch and her neck being better – Aziraphale was feeling a little more herself. 

(A little more who she was before she was with Gabrielle. Again, though. For another time. The things Gabrielle had said to her, was for another time.)

She added a few cosmetics to a little bag, and was set to go. At least once she'd finished making out with Crowley for a good long spell next to her messy bed and  _very purposefully_ ignoring it. She wanted to see Crowley's house! And make out there, preferably.

“Oh, honey.” She tilted her head back since she could now, feeling sexy and sweet. “Ow! Oh, bugger.”

Crowley just laughed and hugged her, hand warm on her neck. “Poor angel. Let's get you a heating pad or something.”

“Stupid bloody body,” Aziraphale grumbled, and got another squeezy little hug, and didn't have time to protest when Crowley scooped up her overnight bag and got them on their way.

It was a very quick drive to Crowley's house, a pretty brick cottage with a front garden full of flowers and a huge bay window.

“You live on a chocolate box, you know,” Aziraphale said, taking the little brick path to the front door. Tea roses grew along the low stone wall that lined the front garden, where there was a wrought iron gate to the pavement.

“Oh, I know, and I encourage it,” Crowley admitted. “I love gardening.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I didn't know that.” Aziraphale smiled, looking anew at the flowers. “It's so beautiful. Will you teach me what everything is?”

“Of course,” Crowley promised, and let them into the cottage. “Let's get you comfortable first, all right? And I'll give you the tour.”

The front room was low-ceilinged with exposed beams, a big fireplace against one wall, and was so ridiculously cozy Aziraphale was about to curl up on one of the oversized sofas right then and there. Crowley's furniture was mostly deep blues and reds, velvet and brocade, heavy dark fabrics. Yet the room didn't feel heavy or old; rather it was a place one could spend their life with a cup of tea and a good book, reading by a crackling fire, or sitting in the window seat, watching their girlfriend tend her garden.

Aziraphale gently pushed the vision aside. Don't plan too much. Crowley will get tired of you. Maybe. Probably. Not worth thinking about, when this will end.

“Uh, living room,” Crowley said, gesturing to the walnut bookcases. “Raid away, sweetheart. The blue sofa's the softest if you want to read a bit.”

Aziraphale smiled and trailed her fingers across the book spines, but the tour was continuing. A small dining room with a nice old oak table and a matching sideboard, both covered with some of the clutter of living. It felt homey and welcoming, the empty cups that had held tea, and the opened mail. There was a set of stairs along one wall, but Crowley kept going to the kitchen, where she dug through a cupboard and found a heat pack, popping it in the microwave. “D'you want something to drink, by the way?”

“Maybe a cup of tea in a bit,” Aziraphale said, drinking in the cozy space. An Aga against one wall – oooh, her girlfriend was _posh_! Cupboards, the remains of the morning coffee, and a wineglass in the sink still with a few drops in the bottom. Crowley's house wasn't messy, but it was clearly lived-in, and Aziraphale felt immediately at home.

When the pack was ready, Crowley carefully wrapped it in a funny long scarf-like thing, and held it to the back of her neck. “There,” she said tenderly. “I can wrap the end around, so you don't have to hold it?”

“Yes, please,” Aziraphale groaned, eyes closing. “That feels amazing.”

“You're taking that with you when you go home,” Crowley instructed. “You can give it back when you're long out of that cast, angel.” Gentle, clever fingers around her throat, and she tensed a moment, but it was okay. It wasn't very tight, but it would stay on her.

“There we are,” Crowley said softly. “A little comfort for my angel.”

Aziraphale smiled and leaned into her, just letting Crowley hold her. “Why do you call me that?”

“Because you look like an angel. That's what I thought, the moment I saw you. That this girl who'd just taken a header into a ditch – she was perfect. Pretty as could be, plump and sweet-faced, blonde and beautiful and cussing her head off. An angel, right there in front of me.” Crowley rubbed her back gently. “I was so, so glad you weren't hurt worse, Aziraphale.”

“Funny, me too,” Aziraphale sighed. Her broken arm was still held between them, but it felt safe like that. _She_ felt safe. “You're too tempting, Crowley. I just want to snuggle, but I _do_ want to see your house.”

Crowley laughed and kissed her temple. “Right. Office is through here, but it's really nothing to write home about.”

It was a tiny box room with a single window, rather unremarkable, but it held a few bookshelves, and a nice old desk with a laptop and a couple of notebooks and other things scattered across. And there was a door to the back garden that Crowley opened, and they went out to the long strip of land.

It was mostly flowers and plants and a small apple tree at the foot of the garden, but there was a pretty paved-stone patio with a place to sit, and Aziraphale exclaimed over how lovely it all was.

“We can explore more later – there's a bench halfway down and you can sit there and watch all the birds and everything,” Crowley explained.

Upstairs continued the beautiful-and-used theme. A frankly palatial bath at the head of the stairs with a clawfoot tub that had Aziraphale green with envy. The guest bedroom, neat and a little less full of Crowley, but very nicely done up, with a neatly-made bed, an armchair, and a full bookcase with a tiny built-in desk.

“I mean it,” Crowley said. “You can sleep or read or anything here whenever you want to, Aziraphale. No questions asked.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I'll take you up on that sometimes. It doesn't mean I don't like you, I just...need space, sometimes. Quiet, to reorient.”

Crowley nodded. “We should work something out – something you can put on the door, so I know to leave you alone.” She grinned. “Otherwise I'll be coming in for a cuddle. And honestly, it's the nicest place in the house to nap. Highly recommend it.”

Aziraphale giggled, and then it was along the corridor to the great big bedroom that looked out over the front garden. Crowley's bed was massive and full of pillows and a duvet, all the bedding looking deliciously soft in shades of black and red. Aziraphale couldn't resist stepping out of her shoes and crawling onto it, snuggling down smack in the middle.

“How do you do _anything_?” she moaned, stretching out and then curling up on her side, hurt arm snug and safe across her tummy, and she almost didn't mind that this position _definitely_ stuck her tummy out a lot more, and showed off how big her hips were.

“Well now that I've got a beautiful woman in my bed, I _don't_ ,” Crowley said in a voice of awe. “Christ, Aziraphale. You're so...” She shook her head, and stumbled, trying to sit on the edge of the bed, losing her balance and landing with a little _flumph_ next to Aziraphale.

“Oh my God,” she mumbled into a pillow, while Aziraphale laughed hard.

“I'm so good at this,” Crowley said miserably.

“You are,” Aziraphale said. “No, I mean it. Crowley, no one's ever made me feel like you do.” She paused. “I mean that in a really good way.”

Crowley turned her head one golden eye peeping over the back pillowcase. “Really?”

“Really.” Aziraphale's smile grew. “I like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot too,” Crowley said softly, her smile growing. “Oh, Aziraphale.” She wriggled a few inches over and right into Aziraphale's open arm, the two of them snuggling together in the nest of blankets.

Aziraphale giggled as Crowley squirmed right up to her, tucking her head under Aziraphale's chin, close against her chest. “Comfy, you?”

“Unbelievably.” Crowley gave her a little squeeze. “Are you all right? Does your neck hurt?”

“I'm fine,” Aziraphale said softly. “It aches a little, but the heat feels good.” She sighed, and somehow went even softer. “Sorry. Tired hit all at once.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Crowley said tenderly, stroking her back. “You're _supposed_ to take naps. Drift off if you want, honey.”

Aziraphale's eyes were already closing, but she forced them open, tugging Crowley up for a soft kiss. “But I want to make out with you,” she whined.

“We can make out later,” Crowley promised her, in between soft laughter. “Go to sleep, my darling girl. There we are, of course I'll hold you while you drift off. Precious thing, sleep and get better for me, all right? You've been through so much.”

“Haven't,” Aziraphale mumbled.

“Have,” Crowley whispered to her, and if she said anything else, Aziraphale didn't hear it. She fell asleep fast and deep, cuddled in her girlfriend's arms and Crowley's considerable bedding collection.

She woke up just as quickly as she'd fallen asleep, but stayed snuggled in bed. It was so  _comfortable_ here. Soft mattress and nice duvet and things, of course, but also...safety. Crowley's house was  _lived_ in. A real person with real interests and hobbies and a job and friends lived here, and it felt so safe. She must live on a very quiet road, for Aziraphale barely heard any traffic, just birdsong coming through the open windows. 

She hugged a pillow tightly, until her body shook, full of feelings. Safe, she was safe. Even if/when Crowley stopped liking her, she was safe. Maybe they'd be friends someday; Aziraphale would like that. Not as good as being girlfriends, but girls like Aziraphale didn't get treated the way Crowley treated her.

She bit her lip and opened her eyes. Things were different now. Crowley cared about her, was affectionate and flirty and tender. Maybe this time would  _stay_ different.

Aziraphale sat up and unwound the scarf-thing with the now-cooled heat pack and folded it neatly, before also making the bed, a little thank-you. She was chilly; late summer and rain was coming on, but seriously doubted that Crowley had a sweatshirt that would fit her. She found a little throw blanket, though, and even one-handed could turn it into a kind of shawl.

Thus warmed and made a little brave by the thought that her girlfriend actually liked her, Aziraphale ventured out, exploring cautiously.

Not for terribly long – Crowley was curled up on a sofa in the living room, and looked up with a grin as soon as Aziraphale came into view. “Sleepyhead! C'mere, how are you?”

Aziraphale giggled and did go over to the sofa, happy to be pulled into Crowley's arms. “I'm good. Did I sleep long? What time is it?”

Crowley stroked her hair and kissed her. “You did, a bit. It's gone half three.”

“Oh, gosh.” Aziraphale yawned a little and snuggled close. “Fancy a cup of tea?”

“Of course. Are you chilly?” Crowley asked with a frown.

“Mmm, a bit. I'll warm up as I move around,” Aziraphale murmured. “Tea. Tea will help.”

Crowley rubbed her good arm briskly, and gently hoisted them both up. “Tea will help,” she agreed. “C'mon, I'll show you where everything is so you don't have to rely on me if you get thirsty or what-have-you.”

Aziraphale followed her to the kitchen, where her ersatz shawl had to stay on by itself as Crowley directed her to fill the kettle and pulled down the little tin of teabags. The mug tree was obvious, at least, and soon they each had a fragrant cuppa to take back to the living room, settling on the sofa all cuddled together once again. Crowley even turned sideways and flung her legs over Aziraphale's lap, the better to rest her head on Aziraphale's shoulder as they sipped away.

Aziraphale had a mug of tea in one hand and her other arm trapped in the sling, so did her best to nuzzle and kiss and tease Crowley into giggling, into gracing her with that amazing, wide smile. And kisses, of course, plenty of kisses, feeling each other out, learning what felt good, how the other tasted.

“What d'you want to do, angel?” Crowley asked, when tea was done and kissing was done for the moment, and she had her arms 'round Aziraphale snuggly as anything.

“Honestly? I want to raid your bookshelf and lie on your sofa and read,” Aziraphale confessed. “I'm sorry if I'm dull.”

“You're not,” Crowley assured her, and touched her cheek. “Poor thing, you're worn out.”

Aziraphale smiled a little. “I'd want to do that if I was healthy as can be.”

Crowley shrugged. “Still not boring. And truly, there's a  _reason_ I have this comfortable sofa in here. Read away, darling. Curry for tea all right? I make a mean one.”

Aziraphale giggled. “Yes! But if there's something I can do to help, you must ask me, all right?”

“Deal. Can you spare me for a few hours, then? I can knock off a load of work and then cook dinner,” Crowley said.

“Oh my goodness, yes! Work!” Aziraphale made to push Crowley off her lap, and laughed when she clung, barnacle-like instead.

“One condition,” Crowley said. “Very serious.”

Aziraphale attempted serious.

“You must come and get me if you need me. If you need _anything_. And that includes if you need a hug,” Crowley said firmly. “I need to know you'll be all right, and you'll come find me if something isn't all right.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I promise,” Aziraphale said, and kissed her to prove it and promise it. “You come seek me out too, all right? You need affection too, Crowley. Especially now – you're doing _so much_ to make me comfortable.”

“Promise,” Crowley said around the sudden lump in her throat. She kissed Aziraphale one more time, and finally detached herself. “I'll just be in my office.”

“Happy work,” Aziraphale called distantly, already kneeling in front of a bookcase, fingertip skimming along the spines.

Crowley paused, just watching the lovely woman, the sure way she moved and the sudden grin on her face as she plucked a book from the shelf. It was just...good to see, all right?

Quiet reigned for a few hours as Crowley worked, lining up some instagram posts for when she'd officially be back and happily writing a quilting bee scene for her protagonist, before stretching, closing her laptop, and wandering to the kitchen. This time of year it was still light well into the evening, even with the first rains of autumn in the air, and she felt mellow and cheerful getting her  _mise_ into  _place_ .

“Hullo then, darling,” Aziraphale said, wandering in. She'd abandoned her blanket-shawl and looked cheerful. She really did move more easily now, and her arm rested in the sling, rather than her half-bending over it protectively.

“Hullo yourself.” Crowley pulled her into a kiss. “Are you warm enough? We can always run back to yours and get you a jumper or something.”

Aziraphale smiled and kissed her back, an arm around Crowley's waist. “I'm fine, sweetheart. And the weather should warm tomorrow too. Can I help with anything? Please?”

Crowley considered this, and got her setting up the rice in the cooker, easy enough to do one-handed. She also opened a bottle of wine, and poured them each out a glass before starting an easy curry. It could simmer and the rice would stay warm and maybe she could get a cute angel onto her lap for some kisses.

They made dinner together, moving carefully around one another. Crowley wasn't used to having another person in her kitchen, and Aziraphale was uncertain, learning where things were, to say nothing of being protective of her wrist. Still, soon the curry sauce was simmering and the rice was cooking and they were sat on one of the kitchen chairs, Aziraphale on Crowley's lap, kissing very, very happily.

Crowley smiled and touched Aziraphale's lips, and kissed her again. “Sweetheart. Is there anything else you want?”

Aziraphale laughed. “You're going to spoil me!”  
“Oh no, you've figured out my plan,” Crowley droned, and tickled Azirpahale around her lovely squishy waist. “Honey, I get the feeling you're not used to being treated like I intend to treat you.”

Aziraphale smiled and kissed Crowley's cheek. “I think I'm not. But I don't want to talk about Gabrielle now.” She sighed. “Or my family.”

“Oh, honey,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale shrugged. “They were very religious. They...didn't like me. My parents have both passed on. I have a brother, but we don't really talk.”

“Angel, I'm so sorry,” Crowley said.

“Don't be. When we did talk, he just wanted to ask about my personal relationship to Jesus Christ and also tell me how I should order the salad more often,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley made an angry little noise, and hugged her hard. “Well, I'm not sorry then, you're well rid of him.”

Aziraphale smiled. “He'd be  _thrilled_ to hear I wound up in a ditch, but too bad.” She laid her head on Crowley's shoulders. “Do you get on with your family?”

Crowley shrugged. “They're all right. We don't talk much, but they're fine I guess. I'm a bit of a disappointment, not becoming a high-powered lawyer or a a millionaire or something, but they don't care I'm a dyke or whatever.”

Aziraphale nodded, and kissed the tip of her nose. “Well I think you're bloody wonderful, so there.”

Crowley laughed and hugged her, and rubbed her back, unbelievably happy to simply be sat in her fragrant kitchen, a beautiful woman in her arms. She touched the edge of Aziraphale's cast, admiring the neat edge, where soft padding turned into the hard, protective fibreglass, and ran her fingertip along her knuckles. “This feel okay?”

“Uh huh. The nap really helped a lot.” Aziraphale smiled and wiggled her fingers. “It was nice to see my arm just...looks like an arm. Silly, I know.”

“Not silly,” Crowley countered, and rubbed her fingertips along the rough surface. Just a few centimetres away was Aziraphale's wrist, a little break that was working hard to heal, and would be whole again soon. “I'm glad it looked okay, though. My foot was a mess.”

“Oh, poor honey,” Aziraphale cooed, and it was Crowley's turn to get a little fussing and kissing and cuddling, until it was time to serve up supper and take a break from kissing. 

It was an ordinary homey kind of evening after they finished eating and tidied up, Aziraphale insisting on helping as much as she could, and finally Crowley chased her into the living room where they watched a Great British Bake-Off rerun and decided to make it an early night.

“Uh,” Aziraphale said as soon as they were in Crowley's bedroom. “I don't know how to ask this tactfully but do you want to...have sex?”

“Do you?” Crowley asked. “Sorry, that sounds like I'm deflecting.”

“It does a bit,” Aziraphale admitted, but she was smiling. “I...do, but maybe not tonight? But I want to share your bed. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Crowley said. “That's very okay with me, honey.” She tilted her head. “How do you feel about some good old-fashioned heavy petting?”

Aziraphale giggled. “I feel good! Oh, Crowley. Thank you. I don't...I'm really bad at reading signals,” she admitted. “I'm sorry.”

“Why? Don't be sorry. It's how your brain is wired,” Crowley said. “Honestly, it's rather refreshing.” She slipped an arm around Aziraphale's waist and kissed her cheek. “D'you want to shower?”

“Oooh, yes please.” Aziraphale gave a happy little wiggle. “Crowley? For heavy petting, ah. Do you want me to just leave my top off?” she asked, all but visibly giving up on flirting.

“Aziraphale, I would be fine with you leaving your top off _all the time_ ,” Crowley said, a little starry-eyed. “Of course. I'll do the same. If you want?”

Aziraphale grinned. “Oh, I  _want_ .” She kissed Crowley's cheek. “I won't be long.”

“Need any help?” Crowley offered. Aziraphale had been pretty good about handling dressing and undressing, and they'd found a cover for her arm quickly enough so there wasn't any faffing about with carrier bags.

“No, darling, I'm fine.” Another kiss, sweeter and longer this time, and Crowley was left shivering a little as Aziraphale gathered her things and swept down the hall to the bathroom.

She changed quickly herself, just into a pair of boxers and tried to be cool. Tried to not be self-conscious that her pretty girlfriend was going to see her with, frankly, not much left to the imagination. See her spare, hard body that she was proud of but oh, would Aziraphale  _like_ it?

Crowley reflected that it had, just a bit, been a  _day_ for them. Morning at the hospital, the relief that Aziraphale's neck was healed enough she didn't need the brace anymore, and the light, small cast. That she'd be fine before winter, really.

Aziraphale had napped and Crowley had worked and she had read and Crowley had cooked for them and it felt like falling into a pattern that had already been written, they just had to find it. Of course it wouldn't ever be that easy; they'd argue and find where they rubbed each other wrong, but so far? So far, dating Aziraphale was the most natural thing Crowley had ever done.

Contented that things weren't going to go too pear-shaped, Crowley settled on her bed, playing on her phone, and only then noticed that – Aziraphale had  _made her bed_ . Her angel with a broken wing (a thing she thought and would literally die before saying aloud) had taken a nap, she was so tired out, and had got up and  _made the bed_ .

Crowley was wrong, they were doomed, because in no way did Crowley deserve this sweet woman. Which she proved when Aziraphale came in, shyly hugging her things to her bare chest and Crowley blurted out “Did you make my bed?”

Aziraphale blanched and Crowley wondered if they were high up enough here on the first floor that she could throw herself out the window and die. Probably not, damn it all. “No, wait, shit! I mean. Thank you.”

Aziraphale smiled tentatively. “You're...welcome? I did. I'm sorry. Should I not have?”

Maybe if she was careful to go headfirst. “No, I mean...you didn't have to, and I was just surprised. And grateful. You're going to domesticate me eventually,” Crowley teased gently, and Aziraphale's smile relaxed.

“Eventually? You have high hopes for me,” she teased, and Crowley probably laughed a little too loudly but it was fine.

“Come to bed?” Crowley asked softly, and Aziraphale smiled, eyes gliding over Crowley's body.

“Oh, yes, please,” she said, and piled her things next to her overnight bag, turning around and smiling at the floor. “This is me,” she added awkwardly.

She was wearing some kind of vintage pyjama bottoms. Oyster-coloured satin with a few inches of lace at the cuffs, the legs cut very wide and long and the kind of high-waisted yoke front that Crowley associated with old movie stars. And, now, Aziraphale. The waist covered most of her tummy which Crowley had some issue with – she  _liked_ round, soft bellies! – but hung beautifully, elegantly. Her gorgeous lady, pale torso and lovely plump arms. Her breasts were big and soft, not like Crowley's little peaks, and they hung heavy, and without thinking Crowley held out her arms. “Oh, darling. Come here, I want to hold you.”

Aziraphale grinned and came as fast as she could and hugged Crowley with two arms for the first time, a thing that Crowley tried not to think about. The cast was a little hard against her body, but it felt so, so amazing to have her girlfriend hug her, to be well enough and carefree enough that she didn't need the sling, not to sleep anyway.

Crowley fell back and they were both laughing and kissing, easing themselves back onto the pillows, lying on their sides and facing each other.

“You are so beautiful,” Crowley said warmly, and rested a hand on Aziraphale's generous hip. “These are _gorgeous_ by the way.”

“Thank you!” Aziraphale laughed. “I wanted something...fancy.” She touched the little row of snaps going over one hip, and tucked her arm close, safe against her belly. “You're beautiful, by the way. I don't know why I couldn't say it. You're gorgeous, Crowley.”

“Thank you,” Crowley said softly, and leaned in to kiss her. “I know this isn't very sexy, but do you need anything? I can microwave the heating pad again.”

Aziraphale sighed. “You being caring is very sexy, by the way. But also...yes, please? I'm sorry, it's the opposite of romantic, but my neck is starting to ache again. And I should take some paracetamol.” She made a face. “Even my bruises are hurting again.”

Crowley made a soft little sound, and touched a particularly nasty one on her ribs. She'd seen a few of them already – they were pretty un-missable – but it was another reminder that Aziraphale had been catapulted from her bike and landed hard. They were so, so lucky it was just a sore neck and a broken wrist. “Bugger romance. It can't be romantic, if you're hurting, angel.” She kissed Aziraphale, long and lingering, hoping to get her point across and oh, oh, it felt so good to have Aziraphale reach out – with her good arm – and pull Crowley closer, open her mouth and kiss as good as she was being kissed. Her mouth was soft and she was eager. She was hungry for caring, for affection, for being treated right, Crowley reckoned. Well,  _that_ was easily sorted.

Just as soon as she caught her breath from an incredible kiss, and Aziraphale's curious, gentle fingers moving up her waist and just brushing along the side of her breast.

“Incredible,” Aziraphale murmured. “You are _incredible_ , dearest.”

Crowley smiled and kissed her, sweet and soft. “And you need a heat pack and some painkillers. And I need to feel you up. In that order.” One more kiss. “I'll be right back, I promise. Get comfortable, all right? Steal as many pillows as you need.” Completely unable to resist she cupped one of Aziraphale's breasts in her hand and pressed a kiss to the top of it. Of course she wanted to do more, but that could  _wait_ . With visible effort, she tore herself away in the end and went to go sort out what needed doing.

Aziraphale took a moment to catch her breath. Crowley loved her body. Crowley loved her breasts – well, all right, they  _were_ pretty nice. But she had caressed Aziraphale's waist, and put off her own pleasure to make things all right. 

She felt guilty for a moment. The request for things to make her comfortable had been something of a test. Not entirely – her neck really did hurt, and her arm and the ugly bruises dotting her body! But if Crowley had been reluctant, or resentful...well, Aziraphale wouldn't blame her, exactly, she was being awfully needy and high-maintenance. But she wasn't, of course she wasn't resentful. She  _wanted_ Aziraphale to be comfortable and not in pain, really cared about that! That was...a lot to handle, Aziraphale admitted to herself. Dating someone who cared about her was a big change, and Christ, how pathetic was that?

In lieu of having a breakdown because her last girlfriend had been...who she was...Aziraphale got under the duvet and actually did arrange pillows, keeping one nearby in case she wanted it for her arm and otherwise cuddling up, making sure to leave plenty of duvet and at least two pillows for Crowley.

(Her last girlfriend had been abusive. There, she'd thought it, and now it was time to put that thought away for another time. Aziraphale would be happy with 'never', but another time would work.)

And anyway, Crowley was coming back, heat pack and a glass of water and the bottle of paracetamol in hands. She settled it on the low table by Aziraphale's side of the bed and perched on the edge, smiling softly. “Hey, beautiful.”

Aziraphale smiled back and pushed herself up and into Crowley's arms. “Thank you. Don't shush me, or say of course you'd do this. Just – thank you.”

“You're welcome. Take your pills, honey, and we'll get you settled for some good heavy petting,” Crowley said, smiling.

Aziraphale downed a few pills and snuggled back, the hot pack delicious against her sore neck, the pillows holding her up, her arm resting on another pillow. And Crowley, grinning fit to beat the band, moving to straddle her thighs and just...delicious. Aziraphale ran her good hand up Crowley's waist and cupped one of her breasts in her hand, loving the smallness and neatness of it, how it was perfect on her darling. She was careful with her right hand – the cast wouldn't feel very nice, and it was awfully hard – but she guided Crowley down, angled her so Aziraphale could her her mouth on her breast, quickly finding a small nipple, already hard under her tongue.

Crowley groaned deep and raw, holding herself up against the headboard, and Aziraphale responded with a suckle, and moving her head to kiss Crowley's other breast, lavishing it with kisses and the tip of her tongue circling her nipple.

“Khhhhh....” Aziraphale smiled at herself when Crowley couldn't even make a word, and kissed between her breasts before releasing her.

“Gnarh,” Crowley announced, and shifted so she could kiss Aziraphale deeply, still propped against pillows. Her hands rested first on her waist, thumbs massaging her belly, then skimmed up, gentle as could be until she was cupping Aziraphale's breasts in her hands, just holding for the moment, a kind of soft caress. She dipped her head and kissed not Aziraphale's breasts, though, but the fold of fat that was just under them, the curve that started from the delta between her breasts. “So, so pretty,” she whispered. “Pretty the first time I saw you, even prettier _now_.”

Aziraphale smiled softly and tried to not get weepy, instead cupping Crowley's face in her good hand, touching her thumb to Crowley's cheekbone. “You beauty,” she said, trying to return the kindness, and moaned at the kiss she got, the two of them sinking back into the pillows, Crowley's body pressed against her, warm and spare and strong in her arms.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Aziraphale breathed, and moaned again when Crowley started to kiss her throat. “Yes, yes...”

“So responsive!” Crowley giggled, clearly delighted. “Oh, my darling. You're a screamer, aren't you?”

“I...think so?” Aziraphale blushed. “I like to make noise, but of course I've mostly lived in flats.” More blushing. “It's nice you live in a house.”

“ _Tell_ me about it,” Crowley purred, and nuzzled her throat again, then dropped to wrap her lips around one of Aziraphale's nipples, licking and suckling. “Mmmm,” she sighed, the next time she came up for air.

Aziraphale just moaned again. She felt  _so good_ . Crowley was just... she fumbled, trying to return the favour, to kiss and caress and instead somehow they both got a little off-balance and Crowley crashed into her. It jarred Aziraphale's arm and she bit back a yelp, and swallowed it in hungry kisses, pressing Crowley to her. The pain was already receding, after all.

“Gentle, baby,” Crowley said softly. “Be gentle with me. I know I don't look it, but...”

“Oh, Crowley!” Aziraphale softened instantly, cuddled Crowley to her and started to stroke her hair. “I'm so sorry.”

“Nothin' to be sorry about,” Crowley said. “I just like it soft.” She traced Aziraphale's nipple, smiling when she watched it harden. “You like a little roughness?”

Aziraphale was quiet a long time, thinking it over. “I don't know,” she finally said. “I never...minded it.” Another long pause. “I think no, for a little while. I've...had enough pain for a bit. But maybe someday, if you want. I could like something rough. Again.”

“You're not just talking about your arm, are you?” Crowley asked softly.

“No, sweetheart. But she's out of my life now,” Aziraphale said with a little more confidence. “Come here, and let me be gentle with you, dearest. I would like so very much to make you happy.”

“Good news, you are,” Crowley said, but she threw her leg across Aziraphale's lap, head resting on her soft shoulder, and she giggled when, with one arm around her, Aziraphale carefully felt her up with her fingertips on her right hand. “Oh, that feels nice,” she sighed, feeling her girl trace invisible swirls and lines with a fingertip.

“Tell me if I hurt,” Aziraphale said. “I know the cast isn't very nice.”

“'s'fine,” Crowley assured her. “I like it. It's keeping you safe.”

“Oh, _Crowley_.” A soft kiss, unhurried and deep, and little fingertip touches and swirls moving from her breast to her waist, over her ribs and to her belly, Aziraphale caressing her, adoring her. “You're really beautiful, you know.”

“Aw, I'm okay,” Crowley said with a grin.

“Gorgeous,” Aziraphale told her, and kissed her. “You've had it easy, miss. I've been out if it and in pain and needy. Now you're going to get all the affection that's coming to you.”

Crowley laughed, and snuggled up to her. “You aren't needy, angel. And you've been wonderfully affectionate, but I won't argue with more cuddles.”

“Wise lady,” Aziraphale advised, wriggling happily, which just made Crowley grin even wider and hug her tight.

“Oh, I love that,” Aziraphale sighed, eyelashes fluttering. 

Crowley smiled and kissed her cheek. “I don't want to squeeze too hard, sweetheart. Those bruises, you poor thing.”

“Mmph. Probably for the best,” Aziraphale sighed. “But I love that tight feeling. Safe.”

“D'you have a weighted blanket?” Crowley asked, stroking her hair. It was drying to be wavy and curly, and it was so _cute_.

“Uh huh. It helps a lot, especially if I'm having a bad day.” Aziraphale was a little stiller now, arms around Crowley, content and easy. “Do you want to talk about my autism?”

“I kinda do,” Crowley said. “I know your wiggles and your nervous stim. Wiggles are easy, that's keep doing what I'm doing and keep my angel happy. Can I help when you're scared, though?”

Aziraphale blinked. “I...yes? You were wonderful, yesterday. Giving me time to ground myself, and get myself safe. That's really all. Check in before you touch me.”

“Of course,” Crowley said softly. “What else do you want me to know?”

Aziraphale smiled at her. “You are never what I expect. I adore it. Um. I mean, I'm me. I'm going to miss things, but it's never because I don't care about you, I'm just wired different. Tell me how I can be a better friend and better girlfriend. I can't promise I can  _do_ it, but there's usually easy things I'm missing. Tell me those. I can mask pretty well, but it's hard when I'm tired. Sometimes I need to be alone, and it's  _never_ because I don't care about you, or anything you've done. I just get overwhelmed.”

Crowley nodded. “Okay,” she said. “None of this is a huge shock or anything, by the way.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Figured not, but it always helps to say it. And it's incredibly important to me that you know that managing my autism isn't your job. It's something you can help with sometimes, and I value that so much, but it isn't...something I want you to lose sleep over or anything. I'm your girlfriend and I care so much about you already, and that's the only thing you ever have to worry over. I can handle my brain.”

“Huh.” Crowley was thoughtful. “That's a really interesting boundary. Thank you. I do want to help you, but I don't...want to _fix_ you or anything, because you're not broken. I want to comfort you when I can, and have the wisdom to give you space when you need that. And the rest of the time to just be your girlfriend. Make sense?”

“Makes sense.” Aziraphale pulled her up a little, into a long and lingering kiss. “Oh, sweetheart. If I had to wipe out and break my arm, I'm so glad it was in front of you.”

Crowley smiled and dotted kisses along Aziraphale's throat, tender with the aching muscles there. “I like to think we would have met anyway, and you could have finished your bike ride. But I'm glad I was there to help you.”

Aziraphale just smiled, and stroked Crowley's hair, and cuddled her close. “Sleepy yet? You did so much today.”

Crowley giggled softly. “Someday you're going to figure out how easy you are to be near, and to help, and I'm going to lose my martyr status,” she teased gently. “I didn't, but I am sleepy, I'm sorry. It won't bother me if you want to stay up and read.”

Aziraphale shook her head. “I'm tired too. And I want to keep holding you,” she confessed.

“I have zero problem with that,” Crowley announced, settling down so her head was pillowed on Aziraphale's shoulder, her mouth almost against Aziraphale's breast. “Please, _please_ wake me if you need anything in the night?”

“I promise. I have a feeling I'll sleep like the dead, mind.” Aziraphale reached and turned out the light, and they cuddled together in the warm dark. She started to pet Crowley, long, slow strokes along her back, moving to her side, until she could just lightly cup one of her breasts in one hand. Crowley grew heavier and heavier against her, relaxing at the soft touches, and Aziraphale practically glowed, that _this_ was something she could do for her. Even with a banged-up arm, she could keep her touch gentle and soft, and cuddle Crowley to sleep.

She'd drift off herself in a moment; she really was tired. Maybe there was something to this whole 'body working hard to heal' thing. But for the moment Aziraphale fought to stay awake in the sweet darkness, her girlfriend fast asleep in her arms, and the whole world was warm and soft and good.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


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